


Fantasy

by Laika_the_wife, Tuii



Series: Reflections [2]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Future Fic, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Original Character(s), POV Isak Valtersen, Post-Break Up, Self-Harm, Sexual Fantasy, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laika_the_wife/pseuds/Laika_the_wife, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuii/pseuds/Tuii
Summary: It was afterwards that he remorsed. When he returned home to his crappy apartment, washed away Even’s scent from his skin in a shower that was either so hot it nearly scalded him or so cold that his teeth chattered when he stepped out. Even had been punished, Isak had been punished, their sins were atoned for and Isak could finally sleep through a whole night again.





	Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> So, Tuii's wife Laika got an idea for more of this story. There will be at least two more parts. Enjoy.

There was a story Isak liked telling himself.

There was a boy. A strange, enchanted, wonderful and terrible boy, who walked into Isak’s life without asking for permission, made him fall for him, and they were very happy for a while. There were rough times, but they made it through together, forged stronger by each disaster they faced. He made Isak’s life better, and he made it worse, and Isak supposed he did the same to him. Love was a two way street, after all.

The ending of the story depended on Isak’s mood. Most of the times it ended softly, a slow erosion gnawing at their foundation until there was nothing left to build on. Sometimes it ended with an explosion, a bang so loud that they both got injuries for life.

Sometimes it never really ended at all.

One element still stayed the same, every time. In this story Isak had tried his best, given his all, and it had not been enough to heal Even. To change him, to reform him. This story had no heroes, no saviours, but a good deal of victims. When Isak told the story to himself, stroking the pieces of his shattered heart, he made sure he remembered how wrongly he had been treated for years, over and over again. He had to, or else he’d remembered only the good and wanted to go back.

Even then he struggled. Isak had left, he had erased Even’s number from his phone and unfriended him on everything he could. He had moved from couch to couch, going through his list of friends, until he had finally managed to save enough money to make a deposit for a place of his own.

He did know Even’s number by heart. He had called him occasionally during the months after the break up. He’d feel lonely, or sad, or bad or worthless, he’d call Even, go to their - Even’s - apartment and fuck him, get dressed and leave. He didn’t tell Even where he lived. He didn’t answer if Even called. He didn’t let Even kiss him. He felt like an asshole about it, but he reminded himself that Even had hurt him so many times, so badly, that this was so _small_ compared to all his shit. Plus Even didn’t have to say yes. He never said no, and at times Isak thought that Even punished himself by letting him in, and those times he told himself that it was what he deserved.

It was afterwards that he remorsed. When he returned home to his crappy apartment, washed away Even’s scent from his skin in a shower that was either so hot it nearly scalded him or so cold that his teeth chattered when he stepped out. Even had been punished, Isak had been punished, their sins were atoned for and Isak could finally sleep through a whole night again.

When Isak met Tom he stopped calling Even. He wrote dozens of texts he never sent. “I’ve met someone.” “I’m in love.” “I’m sorry.” Isak could only hope that Even had figured out why he never contacted him again. He could only hope Even was okay.

Isak had fallen for Tom the first time he met him. It wasn’t about his looks. He really wasn’t Isak’s type in appearance - well, he wasn’t sure he _had_ a type, but with a population of 1 in guys Isak had fallen for the physical properties of a guy were vastly different from Tom’s - but when Eskild and his posse had met Isak by chance at a club and this olive skinned, green eyed guy with a V-shaped torso had just wrapped his well toned arms around Isak like it was the most natural thing in the world, hugging him with such power, Isak had felt his heart flutter for the first time in years. It was the hug, he’d tell Tom later when they laid together on the couch watching TV. Isak had never been hugged like that, especially by a stranger. It had felt like Tom would never let anything happen to him. It had felt like neverending kindness and safety.

Tom was like that with everyone he met. Everybody loved him, some more than as a friend, but nobody seemed to long for him like Isak did. Isak was sure Tom had noticed his intense crush, and he did hang out with him and Eskild and some other friends quite often, but he never gave away any clues or signs of him being interested in Isak.

It felt bittersweet. Isak was unhappily in love, and that stroked his inner darkness in a most wonderful way. He felt like he wasn’t worthy of this radiating star of warmth and kindness. He knew that there must’ve been more to Tom than that, that he must’ve had his own dark sides and baggage, but as he basked in Tom’s glow he found it so easy to forget.

“You do know he’s like Even”, Eskild enquired once after Tom had left and Isak started going on and on about him like a teenage girl in love with her pop idol.

“He’s _nothing_ like Even!” Isak snapped.

Eskild looked at him for a long time, silently. There was a sadness in his eyes that made it hard for Isak to look into them, but he did.

“Don’t get me wrong”, Eskild continued. “Tom is great. And he’s definitely good for you. It’s good to see you smile like that again. But he is like Even was when you first started your thing. You have a type, and that’s okay, but..just be careful, Isak, okay?”

Isak glared at Eskild.

“Are you trying to tell me that he’s insane as well?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Isak, I get it. You were hurt. You were in pieces. But I’m sick of you talking like that about someone who loved you with everything he had. It’s not his fault that it wasn’t enough for you.”

Isak’s eyes grew dark.

“Go fuck yourself”, he growled as he stood up and marched to get his coat. Fucking asshole. He was just starting to piece together his heart, shattered by the mess that was Even, and now Eskild claimed that everything was somehow his fault. Eskild didn’t know half of Even’s shit. And if Isak told him now, he’d just prove Eskild’s point of him being a needy whiny bitch. Fuck.

Isak rushed outside, not listening to Eskild anymore. He didn’t need this, not now, not ever. He’d find new friends, better friends, people who’d be on his side no matter what. He’d never had that kind of a person in his life, not really.

The walk was longer than Isak would’ve liked. It was cold, and late, and his sneakers kept slipping on the icy streets. His toes were also freezing, but this was his only pair with no holes in their soles. Pick your poison. So, as Isak finally reached his house and searched his pockets for keys in vain, he was not a happy camper.

“Shit”, he hissed, reaching for his phone in his breast pocket. Also nothing. Double shit. Isak yanked at the door but it remained locked and shut. There were no lights on in the first floor apartments. Nor the second floor, and that was as high as he could risk throwing a snowball or something without having to worry about broken windows.

The idea of the long walk back to Kollektivet was not appealing at all. Having to face Eskild after the fight was even less so. But there wasn’t many options either. Isak turned around and started walking.

He made it about half a block when he heard a car pull over, the door open and someone call his name. He turned around and saw Tom, by a taxi, in front of his house.

“Isak! I have your keys!” Tom shouted and raised his hand, dangling the keychain in his fingers. Isak jogged to him, beaming.

“You’re a lifesaver, Tom”, he said and pulled his wallet out. “How much for the cab?” He couldn’t afford it, but it was only fair.

“I’ll take care of it”, Tom answered. “You’ll pay next time.”

Isak took the keys Tom was holding. They were still warm from being in his pocket. As Isak took them he touched Tom’s hand accidentally, and as Tom grabbed his hand Isak’s heart skipped a beat.

“Ice cold”, Tom said, wrapping his warm fingers around Isak’s. “You need to dress better for the weather.”

Tom reached his other hand out and touched Isak’s earlobe. Isak was sure he would just die there and then.

“That’s it”, Tom stated as he let go of Isak. “Mom is knitting you a hat and mittens for Christmas.” Tom looked down at Isak’s feet. “And a pair of socks.”

“What?” Isak half-peeped, half-laughed. All strength of his voice had disappeared somewhere.

“Socks. Your feet must be freezing. My mom knits about 24/7, it’s no trouble.”

Isak nodded, mute. Nobody had ever knit anything for him before. And his feet indeed were numb by now.

“See you around, then”, Tom said and handed Isak his phone as well. “Good night.”

“Me too. Thanks.” Isak shook his head to snap out of his daze. “I mean thank you for bringing these. Good night.”

Tom laughed and Isak wanted to die again, bathing in that wonderful sound. Then Tom stepped back into the car and it drove off. Isak was left standing there, cold and alone and kind of miserable again.

At least he could get inside now. And at least his apartment was warm. It was small and pretty shitty, but the heating worked. Isak took off his shoes and coat, grabbed a blanket and curled up under it on the couch, phone in his hand. He opened Instagram and looked up Tom’s profile. He liked taking selfies, and he posted them often. He had asked recently if Isak used the app, but he had panicked and lied because he had stalked Tom’s profile for weeks then. Isak never posted anything anyway, so it didn’t really matter if Tom knew his handle or not.

Isak’s fingers and ears tingled and burned as he looked at the pictures posted by Tom. It was probably just because his blood started flowing there again, but the touches Tom had given him sure played their part in it. His hands had been so warm.

Isak kept looking at Tom’s pictures further and further back. When he reached last summer’s topless beach shots he noticed that in addition to warming up from the cold he had started warming up in other ways as well. Isak stopped at one particular picture, where Tom was leaning back in a chair in a garden, sunlight playing on his skin in ripples, his chest hair painted golden by it, the silky line of dark curls starting at his belly button and growing darker as it traveled lower, finally diving inside Tom’s shorts, like an invitation to burrow deeper..Isak sighed softly as he started stroking himself through his jeans.

He teased himself with soft touches and slow strokes, letting his eyes wander on Tom’s body. Imagining how it would feel to touch it, to dig his fingertips into that flesh as the passion grew more intense, what it would taste like to his hungry lips and tongue. Isak laid back on the couch and straightened his legs, breathing heavier. He put the phone down on the floor and slipped his both hands under the blanket. With his left hand he rolled his shirt up, palm firmly against his skin, sending ripples of delight all over his body. His right hand was busy unbuttoning his jeans. He took his time with that as well, enjoying the pressure easing up bit by bit.

Isak gasped softly as his now rock hard cock emerged from his jeans and undies. He knew every inch of it, every sensitive spot, every vein. He had always had it, and his time with Even had taught him to appreciate it. The second the thought about Even slipped into his mind Isak grabbed the phone from the floor and focused on Tom. He started stroking himself slowly, still teasing himself, savouring the moment. When he couldn’t take it anymore he reached down under the couch and pulled out his living room lube. The perks of living alone in an apartment no visitor should or would ever see.

Isak squeezed some lube on his palm and curled his fingers into a fist, rubbing and warming the lube up. He licked his lips slowly, stroking his chest with his free hand, pinching a nipple firmly. He wanted it, he wanted it bad, he needed to just escape for a moment and let go. His cock was throbbing as he grabbed it firmly and started pumping.

While stroking himself furiously Isak let his mind wander. Images and fantasies flashed through his eyes as he listened to his mood, what would turn him most on right now. Even kept popping up, and finally Isak gave up to his lust and instincts. He let Even join him.

Eyes closed, on his back on the couch, Isak felt Even’s hands on his body. Then he looked up and saw himself, and he was Even, devoured by Isak’s eyes, obeying his every word and order. He had done wrong, he needed to be punished. He wanted to be punished.

“Hurt me”, he made Even whisper with his own lips. He yelped as he pinched his nipple harder, so hard it made him see stars, he twisted his fingers and yelped again. “Make me pay.”

Isak dug his fingernails into his stomach and pulled three red lines across it, slowly. He kept touching his dick furiously, moving his hand up and down, squeezing and releasing in rhythm. The dull burn of pain on his skin made him harder, the idea of Even having that pain, receiving it willingly, turned him on so hard.

Images kept flashing. He was Even, he was in chains, a whip lashed on his back and buttocks, he cried out with every strike but in every cry there was also a moan. He was so hard, it hurt, it was a delicious pain and he wanted more. He needed more.

“Hurt me!”

Isak was panting. He opened his eyes and searched the room, frantically, he needed something, anything..he got up and went to the bathroom. It was tiny, but it was tiled. So when he opened the mirror cabinet and pulled out a rubber dildo with a suction cup at its bottom he could stick it to the wall.

“Fuck..let me suck you..” Isak mumbled and fell on his knees in front of the toy. He closed his eyes and wrapped his lips around the tip. He let his tongue swirl around it for a moment, then he took a deep breath and pushed further. He couldn’t take it all the way in, but he took it as far as he could, enjoying the feeling of being filled like that. In his mind  Even was on his knees in the bathroom’s hard cold floor, choking on Isak’s dick.

When he was sucking on the toy Isak didn’t touch himself, other than to inflict pain. He smacked his ass with his palm, so hard it left a red mark. He hit again, on the other cheek. He pulled and pinched his nipples until they were red and aching. Each lash of pain rushed into his dick like electricity. He was dripping when he pulled back.

The bathroom lube was in the shower. Isak lathered it on the toy generously. Then he spred it on himself, on his hole, his fingers, he warmed himself up as quickly as he could. Staring intently at the dick sticking out of the wall. The lubed rubber was hard and soft at the same time when it pressed between his cheeks, against his hole. Isak was panting again, moaning, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he pushed back. When his body gave in and accepted the toy he gasped sharply. It was so big. So hard. It was so relentless. It wouldn’t give in, it was Isak who would.

He kept his eyes closed. He saw Even on his hands and knees, saw him taking it from him, inch by inch all the way in. Isak scratched himself again, his thighs, his ribs, he pinched his nipples so hard it made him tear up. Then it was in. All the way inside, he stopped there to take a breath. Isak lubed up his hand once more and started touching his dick, making it go from half soft to rock hard again.

Isak started to rock his hips. First slowly, short rocking motions, in sync with his strokes. It was so fucking hot, he was so full, he was full of Isak’s cock and he loved it so much, Even loved it, he was Even, fucked by Isak, so rough. He couldn’t go as rough as he imagined he was going, not without tearing himself up, but he didn’t mind causing himself some pain while he was pounding himself against the toy on the wall. He was so close of coming, so very close to the edge, he pushed back as hard as he could and exploded, shouting, calling out his name with Even’s voice.

He stepped away from the toy, grunting as it exited him completely, leaving him open and empty. He looked at his hand covered in lube and sperm. He looked at his torso covered in scratches.

Isak reached out to turn the hot water on. It was time to take a shower.


End file.
